A sudden global pandemic spirals out of control and then leads to lockdowns across major cities. What does that leave someone with? Nothing but a trail of disruption. For me the situation was a cocktail of activities and opportunities I had never dreamed about either doing or not doing. So here I was, this Nigerian lady of twenty-three trying to figure out my ‘new' life. Starting a relationship was never, ever part of my considerations. So how then did it eventually happen? Educational institutions had gone on break, most businesses and establishments asked to closed down or restrict opening hours and everyone ordered to stay indoors as much as possible to contain the spreading viral disease called COVID-19. But alone at home with little of my life the same as it was before the crisis, my world had transformed into something strange. I was at home doing nothing much except reading my books, catching up with old friends in town through social media and helping around with a little renovation with my siblings. Finding a traditional job that I could engage myself with around my neighborhood and beyond proved futile. It simply was a disaster. No one was hiring anyone new for a job. However, four months into my university break, I found something to do at home that I should say was fascinating: online freelance work. How I got into such a job sometimes makes me wonder but it all started with a friend of mine back from secondary school called Felix. He had sent me a Facebook message asking if I could help him out with some writing gigs. After my initial negative reply which was based on my little experience with creative writing, I agreed to help him. Back in secondary school, Felix was the most captivating of all the boys in my class and I considered him the most brilliant. Once in a while he would top the class but his periodic genius mind wasn't what started our friendship back then. Rather, it was his love for writing and drawing that got my attention. Some probing and demanding on my part made him finally take me as his apprentice. Weeks later, just as I was making some progress with these creative skills, I decided to quit. My love interest in art had gone and in its stead a close friendship had formed between me and Felix. I didn't feel I had it in me to be an artist of any sort or so I thought. Still I occasionally practiced when I needed a break from some stressful things. My first client was a lady, Felix's friend. She requested for a drawing of her boyfriend ahead of his birthday coming up in two weeks. A simple but unique piece of art was my first product in this new world of commerce and it was highly appreciated by many. I did many more interesting gigs after that but the most heartwarming was a love letter I wrote for a girl whose father had survived COVID-19. She cried after reading it stating it was the most love filled message she had read in a long time. Felix had told me about it in the happiest voice and for once in a long while I was moved by that knowledge. Many times I had to refer to the internet for tips on how to go about some projects. And like a mentor that he was, Felix was there to guide me through it all. He shared tips, experience, techniques with me that would help bring better results than the last projects. A year later since I started this new journey I found myself not so enthusiastic about it. It's like I had lost my love and interest for this phase and experience of my life that I felt so withdrawn. True, it was very demanding especially on my creative abilities but I sadly realized I was not in my most unique and comfortable zone. And so like years before, I decided to quit. I sent Felix a message in June, 2021, thanking him for everything: the teaching, support, advice and of course friendship. I told him in the nicest way that I wasn't ready to continue down this road of entrepreneurship, As a second-year nursing student my future career still obsessed me and I did not want to let that go. I did make a request to him that I wanted to be his official business partner in the art industry in future. More of a inactive one I reasoned. Sadly, he did not give a reply when I expected. I was hurt. I imagined he also had the same feeling of disappointment despite the confidence and encouragement he had given me and I still let him down. Some weeks later he responded. “I would gladly have you as my official business partner. Would you please accept my proposal to be my girlfriend?” he wrote back to me. Shock and surprise hit me as I digested the meaning of the message. I had a number of male friends but I had never dated or had a boyfriend before. This really was a first for me. I sent him an affirmative reply teasingly asking if he has had a girlfriend before. He said yes: me, in those days when we were in secondary school. And so that's how my love journey began with a guy called Felix. And till now, we are still going on strong in our relationship.

A sudden global pandemic spirals out of control and then leads to lockdowns across major cities. What does that leave someone with? Nothing but a trail of disruption. For me the situation was a cocktail of activities and opportunities I had never dreamed about either doing or not doing. So here I was, this Nigerian lady of twenty-three trying to figure out my ‘new' life. Starting a relationship was never, ever part of my considerations. So how then did it eventually happen? Educational institutions had gone on break, most businesses and establishments asked to closed down or restrict opening hours and everyone ordered to stay indoors as much as possible to contain the spreading viral disease called COVID-19. But alone at home with little of my life the same as it was before the crisis, my world had transformed into something strange. I was at home doing nothing much except reading my books, catching up with old friends in town through social media and helping around with a little renovation with my siblings. Finding a traditional job that I could engage myself with around my neighborhood and beyond proved futile. It simply was a disaster. No one was hiring anyone new for a job. However, four months into my university break, I found something to do at home that I should say was fascinating: online freelance work. How I got into such a job sometimes makes me wonder but it all started with a friend of mine back from secondary school called Felix. He had sent me a Facebook message asking if I could help him out with some writing gigs. After my initial negative reply which was based on my little experience with creative writing, I agreed to help him. Back in secondary school, Felix was the most captivating of all the boys in my class and I considered him the most brilliant. Once in a while he would top the class but his periodic genius mind wasn't what started our friendship back then. Rather, it was his love for writing and drawing that got my attention. Some probing and demanding on my part made him finally take me as his apprentice. Weeks later, just as I was making some progress with these creative skills, I decided to quit. My love interest in art had gone and in its stead a close friendship had formed between me and Felix. I didn't feel I had it in me to be an artist of any sort or so I thought. Still I occasionally practiced when I needed a break from some stressful things. My first client was a lady, Felix's friend. She requested for a drawing of her boyfriend ahead of his birthday coming up in two weeks. A simple but unique piece of art was my first product in this new world of commerce and it was highly appreciated by many. I did many more interesting gigs after that but the most heartwarming was a love letter I wrote for a girl whose father had survived COVID-19. She cried after reading it stating it was the most love filled message she had read in a long time. Felix had told me about it in the happiest voice and for once in a long while I was moved by that knowledge. Many times I had to refer to the internet for tips on how to go about some projects. And like a mentor that he was, Felix was there to guide me through it all. He shared tips, experience, techniques with me that would help bring better results than the last projects. A year later since I started this new journey I found myself not so enthusiastic about it. It's like I had lost my love and interest for this phase and experience of my life that I felt so withdrawn. True, it was very demanding especially on my creative abilities but I sadly realized I was not in my most unique and comfortable zone. And so like years before, I decided to quit. I sent Felix a message in June, 2021, thanking him for everything: the teaching, support, advice and of course friendship. I told him in the nicest way that I wasn't ready to continue down this road of entrepreneurship, As a second-year nursing student my future career still obsessed me and I did not want to let that go. I did make a request to him that I wanted to be his official business partner in the art industry in future. More of a inactive one I reasoned. Sadly, he did not give a reply when I expected. I was hurt. I imagined he also had the same feeling of disappointment despite the confidence and encouragement he had given me and I still let him down. Some weeks later he responded. “I would gladly have you as my official business partner. Would you please accept my proposal to be my girlfriend?” he wrote back to me. Shock and surprise hit me as I digested the meaning of the message. I had a number of male friends but I had never dated or had a boyfriend before. This really was a first for me. I sent him an affirmative reply teasingly asking if he has had a girlfriend before. He said yes: me, in those days when we were in secondary school. And so that's how my love journey began with a guy called Felix. And till now, we are still going on strong in our relationship.

I recently watched Bo Burnham's Netflix special ‘Inside', and it got me thinking. I was originally going to write about the month I spent living in a camper with my boyfriend in May of 2020, but that wouldn't fully capture my experience of this entire lockdown. So here it is. My quarantine began much earlier than most people. After graduating high school in June of 2019, two-thirds of my family moved in with my grandparents. Those three-quarters being my mom and I, leaving my older sister behind in a gamer den with her soon to be fiancé. After taking refuge in my mom's parent's basement and guest room that summer, I frantically applied to the local University and was shockingly accepted at the last minute. I would be going to art school. Whoop. Don't get me wrong I love being creative, but forcing myself to make art on a whim has never been my thing. Anyway, of course, because I love stressing myself out, I applied for a job around the same time and started working on the opposite side of town. Did I mention my boyfriend got signed to a hockey team two provinces away at this time as well? So not only was I starting a new job, but I was also starting University and keeping up a long-distance relationship. So began the arduous journey of getting up at 6:30 in the morning to rush off to the bus stop with my arms full of art supplies. Two hours on the bus, eight hours of classes, and then, of course, two more hours home. Then came the hours of meticulously sketching, smudging and setting of work that would be looked at for ten minutes and set aside for new homework. Most nights I stayed up until one or two in the morning to get my studying done, just to wake up in a few hours and do it all over again. All while working on the weekends as a lifeguard and swim instructor. Our one year anniversary was a rough one. It's definitely something I will never forget. It was a Saturday, so I was working and honestly a bit exhausted after only a month of the rigorous University program. All was fine until I had a full-blown mental breakdown on my lunch. Don't ask me why, my mind works in mysterious ways. Maybe it was because instead of spending it with the love of my life having fun, I was around a bunch of underpaid overworked teenagers who couldn't care less about their job. I had a lot of breakdowns during those few months and I'm just starting to see why. I can't say my University experience was a complete failure though. There were some moments that made me want to hang on even longer than I did. Halloween was one of these moments. We all got to dress up (not that art students don't already dress eccentrically every day) and in drawing class, our teacher posed dressed as a clown for our reference. Another eye-opening moment was when I got my highest grade (and one of the highest in the class) on a project I put zero effort into. Zero. Zilch. But because I said it was a commentary on the arbitrary monetary value we place on things and time, I checked all the boxes. It was at that moment I realized I didn't want to go to University anymore. Also, the fact that I had a professor tell us in lengthy detail about his University debt and how we would be walking away with a piece of paper at the end of this all. That whole experience was like quarantine in itself because I didn't go out anywhere in my free time, I almost never saw my family because I left early in the morning and got back too late at night, and I only ever saw the same people in my classes. But that wasn't even the worst part. After quitting University, I cruised along, working here and there until IT came. In March of 2020, everything was closed down. The University, the pools, and the border. I think that's when my last ounce of sanity truly went down the drain. It was such a contrast to the amount of work and effort I had exuded in the months prior that all I could do was sleep, eat, and stare at the ceiling. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but when I think back to it, the month of March is like a blank slate in my mind's eye. The biggest thing I learned from the past year has had to be that University was a huge waste of my time. Wait no, it did teach me that, so maybe not. But really, my time since graduating high school has been wild and I have learned so much about myself and what I want from life. I've learned more about myself in the last two years than in my entire twenty years of existence, and I've come out of it being an even more creative and decisive person. So I would like to thank myself. Thank you for making it through to the other side and being even more of a pain in my ass to stick to my goals and dreams. *Raises glass of non-alcoholic beverage* Here's to another few years.

Looking at the mirror, I see myself with a sense of peace today. Devoid of any makeup or accessory, late at night, my reflection smiles back at me. Sometimes it is a smile of joy and victory, sometimes of heart-wrenching sadness. But these is always an odd sort of comfort, like the feeling of slipping into your favorite pair of worn out pajamas. Or the feeling of coming back home after a long, tiring day. This solace was earned, not gifted. I was born as a confident and happy child. Never really caring about my looks, I do not remember ever worrying about how people saw me. My teenage years were not so carefree, however. They were tainted by remarks about how my ugly self did not deserve any company, let alone sympathy. I looked at the mirror then too, but with feelings of contempt and despair. My confidence hit rock-bottom. I did things to myself I am not proud of. I have always had long hair, now I hid my face behind it. Walking through the school corridors, I hung my head low. I had few friends; people distanced themselves from me as if I carried an infectious disease. It can take years of contemplation to make a change happen, but in hindsight you can always find a turning point that acted as the catalyst. My turning point came in the form of a random woman in a random convenience store. She kept stealing glances at me, making me extremely conscious of my appearance. Just when I could no longer bear the scrutiny and was about to bolt, she walked over to me and said in broken English, “You're very pretty.” I stared at her, dumbfounded. What was this strange woman saying? My face was bare; my hair, which I consider my best physical feature, was tied in a bun. She looked over me once again, then said in a decisive tone, “Yes, very beautiful.” She waited a few seconds for me to make a reaction, during which I barely managed to gather my wits and mumbled a faint thank you. Then she left, leaving me extremely confused among aisles of snacks and scattered thoughts. I believe in miracles, I am forced to believe in them since that incident. Now whether the miracle came to me or I made it happen was another question. I have reasons to think that the whole thing was a figment of my imagination. My brain could have simply conjured this up to pull myself out of the pathetic state I was in. I do not remember a thing about the woman; her face, her clothes, her voice, nothing. Just the words. If you are thinking I suddenly discovered my hidden beauty, got a wardrobe upgrade and showed the world what a catch I was, then I apologize for being the cause of disappointment, but no such thing happened. I did not feel particularly beautiful after that encounter, but it did eventually bring clarity to my thoughts. For one, there was no great change in my appearance that could have suddenly sparked such hatred among my peers. Sure, my body was changing thanks to puberty, but my face was essentially the same as it was before I was bullied. Thinking hard, I traced back to the inception of my suffering: a certain comment from a mean classmate who was always jealous of me for some unfathomable reason. Historically speaking, being the subject of envy has never worked out in my favor. At that time, the consequences of a single snide remark were two whole years of self-hate and being treated like an outcast. It took me months to come to terms with the fact that the harassment had nothing to do with the way I looked. More than a year later, I finally learned to fight back and recovered my lost self-confidence. I did nothing to change my appearance. This experience has greatly shaped the way I feel about beauty as an adult. In my 22 years of existence I have been fortunate enough to live in three different countries and meet countless beautiful people, as well as a few ugly ones. Before you jump the gun, let me clarify that beauty, or the lack of it, does not simply refer to the so-called golden ratio or the symmetry of a person's face. At least not in my dictionary. To me, the most beautiful person in the world would be empathetic. Confident, yet not arrogant. Bold, yet not disrespectful. Physically, well, there is no single way to be beautiful. There is no denying the fact that the first thing you see in a person is his/her face. It is out there for the world to see, and it is convenient to judge thanks to the many beauty standards society has imposed upon us. The problem arises when we take the easy way and try to figure out a person's character based on his/her looks. Stop. Because this is where you should stop. Not only are you putting unfair expectations on that person, but you are also making a fool out of yourself. I now listen to the people worthy of my love and admiration to evaluate my beauty. Most importantly, I listen to myself. Do I think I am beautiful? Physically, I consider myself just normal, and I love it. But truly? I am on my way there, though I still have a long way to go.

Have you ever tried to imagine being someone else? Two summers ago, when I was 11 years old, I auditioned for a role in Yellow Fever, the Musical. I was absolutely thrilled to be cast as a Korean mother of two who survived the Korean War and lived through hunger and poverty. This was the first time I was part of the main cast and played such an important role. I was anxious but ready to fully commit and put in the maximum amount of effort to perform well in the musical. During that four week period in the Summer of 2016, I learned about the reality of the world around me, realized the importance of teamwork, and discovered the connection between the story and my heritage. This entire experience encouraged me to grow and has changed the way I view the world. The knowledge I gained during the musical program gave me a deeper insight into what it must have been like to live in a war-torn society, struggling with poverty and hunger. To understand my character, I did a lot of research on the history of the Korean War and Korean culture. I read the script over again and again, not just to memorize my lines but to understand the story I was going to tell. I got to visualize myself in her world, and fully immerse myself in the story. Over time, I became more familiar with the complexity of the role as I gained an understanding of the reasons that led to the many ideals and expectations she created for her children. One winter night my character was trembling in the cold weather and her stomach was growling. When she saw bread coming fresh out of the oven, she couldn't help but grab a piece and run. She had no other choice but to steal a small piece of warm bread in order to survive. This made me realize how I was so ignorant of the struggles around the world. The more I learned the more empathetic I became towards my character. In addition to the hardships of war, my character still nurtured hopes for a brighter future. Therefore, she came to America to provide better opportunities for her children despite the struggles to fit in a foreign culture. Along my journey of understanding the story as well as self-discovery, my ambitious cast pushed me even further. My peers, who had been in this program much longer than me, were all very supportive and allowed me to flourish in the new environment. Even though there were some long days, I had so much fun with my cast while we worked towards a common goal. Since that was my first year there, their will motivated me to become the best of myself. I connected with many teachers and directors, consulting them on how to become a better performer and how to better act out my role. Their advice had brought me a long way and in the limited amounts of time I was there, I was able to deeply bond with many people. There was this one time during our lunch break that our entire cast sat around the table and discussed what we wanted the audience to get from the show. We shared our ideas and laid out a plan. We even stayed connected after camp hours just to map out the play and rehearse lines. During that time, I really saw how far our teamwork had brought us. Without everyone's cooperation, the show would not have been as successful or as memorable as it is now. The entire experience inspired me to give my all into the things I am passionate about and to never lose that light of hope even in difficult situations. As I dug deeper into the story, I realized how close it all hit home and the connection between the musical production and my own heritage. Before rehearsing for this musical, I had never truly appreciated the struggles my own family had to face. My grandmother also lived through a similar situation. She grew up in the time of the Cultural Revolution in China and many opportunities were taken from her. When I was seven years old, my grandmother told me a story about her life as a teenager. She had to work in order to help feed herself and her family, working at the train station, selling cargo labels. She told me how hard it was working twelve and more hours each day, running from dawn to night trying to get customers to buy her labels. She also had to outrace other hungry children which made the job even more exhausting. This story is very inspiring and motivational for me and after I was able to better understand it, I gained a deeper admiration for my grandmother and realized how fortunate I am today. My grandmother's experience enabled me to feel the determination to survive. I was able to apply those emotions to my character, which ultimately improved my performance. Before the four week musical program, I would have never discovered so much about the reality of the world, the power of teamwork, nor the truth about my own heritage. I know the skills that I developed during this period will continue to serve me well. This experience has helped me to build values that I will cherish for the rest of my life and it has become an essential part of who I am becoming.